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I'm with the Band

Page 10

by Melanie Brown


  Kayla frowned, but said, “Sure.” As I started to get off the bed, Kayla held up her hand and said, “Wait a second! Don’t take anything off yet.”

  I sat back down while Kayla rummaged through her desk. She sat next to me and said, “Let me see your hand.”

  I extended my hand to her and started to say, “Why? What do y... ow! Hey!” There was a sharp pain in my finger and a bubble of blood appeared as she pulled the pin away. “Is that sanitary?”

  Kayla didn’t answer, but poked her finger as well. She pushed her bleeding finger against mine, “Quick, repeat after me... I, Michelle Grayson... go on, say it.”

  “Why? What are you doing?”

  “Just say it!”

  “I, Michelle Grayson... “

  “And I Mikayla McIntire, swear before the goddess of the Universe... “

  I frowned and said, “Swear before the goddess of the Universe... “

  “To be friends and loyal to each other forever and ever... “ She continued to rub our bloody fingers together.

  I sighed and said, “To be friends and loyal to each other forever and ever... “

  “To not steal each other’s boyfriends... “

  “Give me a break!” I groaned.

  “Say it!”

  “To not steal each other’s … boyfriends... “

  “The mingling of our blood makes us sisters forever and ever.”

  Is this legally binding, I wondered. I hesitated a moment, thinking of the implications here. I know that she was just being a silly girl and going through a silly ritual, but something in her eyes told me she was taking this as a solemn promise. More than once I have toyed with the idea of moving our friendship to something more. Does this mean that’s out of the question now? Can sisters date?

  Her eyes were burning a hole through my head. Hesitantly, I said, “Uh, the... the mingling of our blood, makes us... um... sisters... forever and... and ever.”

  She smiled and gave me a big hug. I asked, “So, what was all that about?”

  Laughing, Kayla said, “We’ve been best friends for years. But now it’s even better because now we’re girlfriends! We’re blood sisters!” She took on a mysterious look and said in a low tone, “You’ve got girl blood in you now!” Then she giggled.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  ”Hey girlfriend!” said Kayla as she stepped behind me in the lunch line.

  “Will you cut that out?!” I whispered to her. “Someone is going to hear you!”

  Kayla giggled and said, “Sorry. We never got around to fixing your hair last night, did we? It still looks a little girlie.”

  “Well, you did get a little carried away with your makeover.” I said, annoyed.

  Looking indignant, Kayla said, “Well, you could have said ‘no’ any time you wanted, you know.”

  Frowning, I said as I reached for a scoop of rubber textured lasagna, “Okay, you win… as usual.”Kayla just smiled.

  As we exited the lunch line, Kayla called to me, “Oh please sit with us again!”

  I looked over at the table where I was headed. My gaming friend Jason was at the table. He’d gotten the latest shooter game over the weekend, and I wanted to hear what he had to say about it.

  “Please, Mike? Come on.” Kayla pleaded.

  If Kayla could turn into an animal, she’d be a perpetual rain-drenched kitten mewing at the door. Only the coldest of hearts could say no. I can give Jason a call later.

  “Okay, Kayla. But I’m going to get a bad reputation sitting with you all the time!”

  Looking puzzled, she said, “I don’t know why. Everyone likes us!”

  “You’re girls… and I’m not dating any of you. I’m afraid of what the guys will think if I’m always just hangin’ with girls.”

  “Oh, who cares? Will you please sit down now?”

  As we sat down, Holly, a really cute blonde, handed Kayla a newspaper clipping, “Here, Kayla. I clipped this from my Mom’s National Informer she got yesterday at the Circle K. Looks like you’ve lost your chance — again — with Tommy.”

  Kayla took the clipping and started to look at it.

  Holly continued, “Looks like he’s met a new girl.”Holly looked over at me and said, “According to the article, she’s the lead singer in John Gray’s Band. Isn’t that your brother’s band, Mike?”

  A shaft of fear bolted down my spine, but I maintained my composure and said, “Yeah… yeah it is. She’s a pretty good singer.” I heard Kayla giggling and she nudged me in the ribs.

  “Let me read the article!” said Kayla as Holly started to tell more.

  Kayla smoothed the clipping on the table in front of her, and then started to read. “Hollywood’s latest heartthrob, Tommy Kincaid, really knows how to throw a Sweet Sixteen party. The b-day festivities took place at the famed Biltmore Hotel, and anyone who’s anyone was definitely there. But the big question on everyone’s lips was not when Tommy’s next movie was being released, but just who that girl who came with him was. National Informer has the scoop!

  “Her name is Michelle Grayson. Never heard of her? Don’t worry! You’ll soon be hearing about her -- a lot! Ms. Grayson is the lead singer in an up-and-coming band called John Gray’s Band and has also been tagged as the new teen spokesperson for...” Kayla paused, and tried to hold back a laugh, putting her hand over her mouth. Continuing, she said, “... for Tampax products for teens.” She glanced at me with wide, laughing eyes.

  Kayla continued reading the article, “This teen hottie sings as good as she looks. Record execs are expecting, excuse the pun, record breaking sales for this golden voiced song bird.”

  Kayla skipped ahead in the article, saying, “Blah, blah, blah-blah blah... “ Then she started reading again, “When our reporter caught up to Mr. Kincaid inquiring about his relationship with Ms. Grayson, Tommy smiled slyly and admitted they were dating, but she had to return to her home to finish the school year. Mr. Kincaid was quoted as saying, ‘Michelle is the most exciting girl I’ve ever met. She’s beautiful, she’s funny, and she’s got the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard... I mean, how could you not love her?’“

  Holly said, “Yep, it sounds like Tommy is totally in love.” She laughed and said, “Looks like you lost out again, Kayla!”

  Kayla snorted, “As if I ever had a chance anyway!” She flashed me a dirty look, and then winked.

  Gina, another girl at the table turned to me and asked, “So, Mike. Tell us about Tommy’s girlfriend! What’s she like? She looks a little like you.”

  Smirking, Kayla asked, “And does she really use Tampax, or is she just saying she does for the money?”

  My face turned beat red. I stammered a bit, regained my composure and finally managed to say, “Um, well, Michelle is very nice. She does sing good and I felt like I’d known her my whole life. And we’re cousins. Distant cousins.” To Kayla, who looked like she was about to explode, I said, “And no, I didn’t ask her about which feminine hygiene products she uses.”

  Kayla passed the clipping around, “Look, here’s her picture.”

  Taking the clipping, Wendy, another girl at the table said, “Wow, she is pretty. No wonder Tommy is in love with her.”

  “The article didn’t say anything about him being in love.”I protested.

  Kayla pointed at the clipping and said, “It says right here that Tommy said, ‘how could you not love her?’”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just an expression.”

  Holly looked at me with a puzzled expression and said, “Why? What do you care? Do you have a crush on Tommy too?”The girls all laughed.

  * * *

  Kayla and I left the lunch room early, and as soon as we entered a mostly empty hallway, Kayla suddenly kicked me in the shins.

  Laughing, she burst out, “Why didn’t you tell me last night you’re selling tampons on the side? That’s freakin’ hilarious! Have you tried them out?”More giggles.
>
  “Because I plan to call my agent and tell him to cancel that deal,”I said, bending down to rub my shin.

  “No you can’t!”exclaimed Kayla. “It’s too funny! You have to do them!”

  “How can I endorse a product I physically can’t use?”I said. After pausing a moment or two, I said, “You know, why bother? Mr. Winters will just win the argument anyway. He makes his money by me making money.”

  As we walked down the hall, Kayla kept giggling, and then she’d look at me and laugh, and then go back to giggling. I looked down the hallway, and the doors began opening as kids started to come back inside to return to class as lunch period ended.

  We were just about to pass a girls’ restroom when two girls suddenly emerged, not noticing us. One girl said to the other. “God! I hate wearing tampons!”

  Without thinking, I said from behind her, “Have you tried Satin Teen tampons from Tampax? They’re comfortable, flushable and biodegradable.”

  The girl turned around, gave me an odd look. She said, “Freak!”and hurried away. Kayla almost collapsed to the floor she was laughing so hard.

  * * *

  As Mom drove the car up into the driveway, she commented, “You’ve been very quiet today. Anything you want to talk about?”

  I sat there in silence for a moment, just staring blankly out the windshield. Finally, I said, “Mom, I uh... I really don’t want to be a tampon spokesman. I mean, how can I stand up there in front of cameras and people and say I use tampons and you should too?”

  Mom looked at me for a second and said, “Is that what’s bothering you? Honey, I can understand your embarrassment endorsing something like tampons. But really, you’re not selling tampons. You’re selling an image. Tampax wanted a cute, everybody’s girl-next-door type to promote their products. You’re really selling that image, not the products.”

  I frowned at Mom and said, “That sounds a lot like Mr. Winters’ horse puckey to me. Image or not, it’ll still be me, a guy, trying to tell girls how much I enjoy wearing tampons for God’s sake!”

  “Nobody knows that Michelle Grayson is not really a girl. You’re already selling that image,” said Mom.

  “But that’s for us! The band. You said yourself that without me, the band wouldn’t have gotten this far!” I exclaimed.

  Mom shook her head and said, “If it wasn’t for Michelle, the band wouldn’t have gotten this far.” Mom hesitated a second and then continued, “Honey, do you really want to pass on this deal? Mr. Winters told me that other companies, all selling female products, are showing interest in using you as a model, or as a spokesperson. Cosmetics and clothes companies are all looking at you for ads. Especially if you become famous with the band.”

  “But Mom! I can wear cosmetics! I can wear clothes! I don’t have periods! I don’t really even know what a light flow or a heavy flow really means!”

  “Do you want me to tell Mr. Winters you’re declining Tampax’ offer? Their print ad is already in the ‘pipe-line’ and will be coming out in magazines probably before July and newspapers before summer. They’ve already spent a lot of money on you,” said Mom.

  “I don’t care! Tampons are... well, they’re a very personal thing and totally girl. I know I’m not explaining myself very good. Kayla saw an article from one of those stupid tabloids you buy at the grocery store and found out I’m selling tampons. She made fun of me all day!” I regretted saying that about a nano-second after it left my mouth.

  “Your friend Kayla? Why would she think it was you?” Mom asked, sounding suspicious.

  “I guess I told her. She promised not to tell,” I said quietly. “I really don’t think she will.”

  Mom was clearly not happy. She said, “How could you? That jeopardizes all of us! If she blabs that to her friends, selling tampons will be the least of your worries! What were you thinking?”

  “You have any idea how frustrating it is to have done something cool like make an album and meet movie stars and you can’t tell anyone?! I wanted to tell someone! She’s my best friend. She won’t say anything,” I said, not sounding very convincing.

  As Mom started to get out of the car, she said, “You better pray she doesn’t. I’ll talk to Mr. Winters that you’re having understandable problems with being associated with tampons. But I think he’ll want you to continue being their spokesperson.”

  Sarcasm in my voice, I said, “That’s just because he gets paid when I get paid. He doesn’t care about anything else!”

  Mom was about to close the car door and stopped. She said, “That may be true, Mike. But he wouldn’t try if he didn’t believe in us and especially you. Trust me, a man like Mr. Winters wouldn’t waste his time on anyone if he didn’t believe in their potential. I know it sounds bad that he views you as a gold mine, but it’s because he believes in you -- your potential -- he’s spending extra time trying to get you involved in advertising and modeling as well as singing. He told me that if you worked hard, Michelle Grayson could be the next big thing.”

  I almost shouted, “Yeah! Michelle! Not Mike! Michelle! Mike is a nobody! It’s bad enough that I’ll never really be a man and you and everyone else has to rub it in by wanting me to be a girl!” I jumped out of the car and slammed the door and ran inside the house.

  * * *

  When Mom opened my bedroom door, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking with anger. I didn’t even look up at her.

  She stood there for a moment in silence. Finally she said, “Honey, I know this is hard for you.” She sat down next to me.

  Taking my hand, she continued, “Mike, I can understand your feelings about having to pretend to be a girl and how unfair it is that you had that terrible accident. Neither your father or I, or even John for that matter, think of you as anything other than our son.”

  Interrupting, I said, “John thinks it’s funny what he did to me.”

  Looking horrified, Mom said, “No, he doesn’t, Honey. John feels sick about the whole thing. More than once I’ve found him alone and crying. He’s very angry with himself over what he did to you.”

  “He could a fooled me!” I cried. “He’s always mean to me.”

  Mom nodded and said, “I know. I’ve talked to him about it. Personally, I think it’s his own way of dealing with it. He doesn’t want to be reminded of what he did by avoiding being sympathetic to you.”

  “Well, it’s his fault!” I snapped, “and I’ll never forgive him for it.”

  Mom stroked my hair and said, “Please don’t say that. I know you don’t mean it. John feels very bad about what he did, and I know that before too long, he’ll come to terms with it.”

  There was a long pause as Mom continued to stroke my hair. She suddenly stopped, hand frozen in mid stroke. Slowly she folded her hands in her lap and she began studying the floor.

  I looked at her curiously and finally said, “Mom?”

  She didn’t say anything for several seconds. I saw a tear well up in her eyes. She finally looked over toward me and said, “I’m really sorry, Mike. I never should have talked you into pretending to be a girl. I never gave your feelings enough consideration.”

  I put my head on her shoulder and said, “It’s okay, Mom. I wouldn’t have been in the band otherwise. I don’t mind being Michelle in small doses, if that’s what it takes to be in the band. I do think a whole week was just a bit too much.” Actually, it really wasn’t okay, but it didn’t feel right to say so.

  Mom said, “I’ll talk to Mr. Winters and see what he says. He’s not used to being told ‘no’.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said. We both sat there for over a minute in silence. Mom continued to stroke my long hair.

  Mom stopped and looked at me as she lifted some long strands of my hair between her fingers and then slid her hand down. “I’m sorry, Mike. It’s just you have such pretty hair.”

  “That’s what Kayla said when she was giving me a make-over.”

  “Kayla gave you a make-over? You let her?�
� asked Mom with a puzzled look. “After this speech about not wanting to pretend to be a girl, and you let Kayla dress you up?”

  I immediately got defensive, “She wanted to see Michelle.”

  Mom nodded and fell back into silence. She was shouldering a lot of responsibility, and I’m afraid I made it worse by telling Kayla and added to her worries.

  “Mom? Would you brush my hair? Then show me how to braid it?”

  Mom’s mood changed instantly and her expression brightened. She said, “Sure, Honey. I’d love to.”

  * * *

  When we finally emerged from my room, Mom was in a much better mood. I had to admit to myself that it felt good to have someone brush my hair, and as she braided it, Mom seemed to really enjoy teaching me something girlie.

  Dad had come home and was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper. I could tell it irritated Mom that Dad was oblivious to the pressure she was under trying to keep the band afloat.

  The other thing I noticed, which I’d missed when I had stormed through the living room earlier, was three bouquets of flowers on the coffee table.

  Dad looked up at me and said, “Did you finally get a haircut?” He paused a moment, then added, “Oh, it’s just braided. That’s not very boyish, son.”

  I shrugged and said, “Being a girl’s my job, Dad. Just like selling schmuck’s more insurance than they need is yours.” Dad frowned and started to say something, but I quickly added, “What’s with the flowers?” I decided I needed to have my head examined as I was suddenly defending being girlish.

  Mom looked a little uncomfortable and said, “They came this afternoon. I’ll give you just one guess who they’re from.”

  “Tommy.”

  Mom nodded.

  I suddenly felt cold. I said, “That means he knows where I live! He’ll be knocking on our door!”

  Mom shook her head and said, “No. Mr. Winters’ office wouldn’t release that information, so Tommy had the florist call Hal’s office for the address.”

  I sighed, “Thank God! That would be a disaster if Tommy came to our house!”

 

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